


Will Knew

by astrabacus



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrabacus/pseuds/astrabacus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t need empathy to know exactly what those determined black eyes were thinking as they stayed firmly focused on their target. Dessert wasn’t going to be prepared in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will Knew

Will knew that look. He didn’t need empathy to know exactly what those determined black eyes were thinking as they stayed firmly focused on their target. Dessert wasn’t going to be prepared in the kitchen.  
  
The almost touches, the breaths on his neck, the stares that lasted a little too long. They had all been piling up over time - staking higher and higher. Soon they were collapsing right on top of Hannibal’s silken sheets that looked so smooth his perfectly porcelain dishes seemed scratched in comparison. Will tried not to think of things like how many other people had touched those sheets before. Or what Hannibal would look like in the morning. The slow dim to blackness brought him back into the moment. A shift in weight on the bed was the only thing telling Will that dessert was about to be prepared.  
  
He had wanted this for a long time. That still didn’t prepare him for his own awkwardness. His own inability to be intimate right away. It didn’t help that for all the empathy in the world, he still did not know exactly how to read or react to Hannibal Lecter. Didn’t seem to matter. Hannibal was doing all the work, _peeling_ off his clothes one by one. Will’s stomach started to churn in the worst way possible as his flannel crumpled next to the crisp button up on the floor.  
  
“Will, I assure you, you can relax. I’m not going to bite unless you want me to.”  
  
It was the first thing he had said in what felt like hours and it was a very terrible joke. Will couldn’t laugh in response. Any sort of action was caught in his throat as he felt those wide and warm fingers pushing up his bare inner thigh. All he could manage was a short breath. It must have satisfied Hannibal well enough. Will could feel the smirk against his lips just before his _tongue_. He should have been ashamed at the noise that escaped into the older man’s lips. He wasn’t.  
  
It had to be the empathy that got him so relaxed like that. Probably. Not even a girth like that grinding on his through thin briefs and finer cotton could make him relax that quickly. Especially when he was becoming all too aware of the silent command to not move, to stay still only until instructed. He was still too nervous to think on his own, much less focus on shedding his boxers and opening his legs.  
  
Tension spread over him before Hannibal’s finger could even enter. There was a pause in his actions. Will forced himself to relax and breathe before he could even ask. One awkward insistence was all he could take.  
  
Two fingers.  
  
Three.  
  
Just how big _was_ he? Not that he couldn’t feel some of it before. Enough to know that this was needed. Teeth were still grit to hold back the pain. The first voluntary movements were onto his fingers, trying to speed up the process. Trying to get Hannibal to enjoy the buffet. But, Hannibal was an artist in everything he did. Having Will quietly moaning on his back was no exception. Patience and time. Shame that it only made Will want to press on those fingers all the more.  
  
“On your knees,” he said as he removed his fingers at last. The absence of them is almost enough to make him frown.  
  
How can he say no?  
  
His position was taken. Moments later broad shoulders and tan skin envelope all of his back, his arms. Still, it’s slow and practiced. Chocolate poured over a pastry. He can’t help another moan as he feels Hannibal, bare, pushing into his entrance. Could they be that intimate? Should they be that intimate? His hips decided for him, pressing back just enough to say that he had.  
  
Whether the younger man was thankful he moved slowly or not, Will still couldn’t tell you to this day.  
  
They, barely a they, gained a rhythm but only after long, slow, fluid motions. Barely in, barely out. It was driving him up the wall, but all he could do was breathe and grip the sheets until his knuckles started creaking with pain. Another smirk, but this time on his neck. Will instinctively turned his head to give Hannibal anything he wanted. Only when he was fully inside did he start to _sniff_. Sniff. Neck and hair and back and ear. Each one followed by a light breath that sent a shock from the source straight to his twitching cock. Hannibal wasn’t moving. “Pl-…” Another silencing move. A hand pushing up his side and shoulders, making their way to gently touch his face, to keep his head tilted away so Hannibal’s lips could begin. Only when his lips parted against the sensitive skin of his neck did Hannibal start to move. Almost as if he wasn’t moving at all.  
  
Will knew he was supposed to take the role of silent pleasure, but he was starting to need. His own lips parted to tease at the tip of Hannibal’s finger with his teeth. It shocked the elder into thrusting deeper, right where he knew it should be. Seemed Hannibal wasn’t used to his dessert biting back. They continued that game for what seemed like hours. Trying to keep a balance of letting Hannibal take control and Will silently beg for more with another suck, another nip of those fingers that were now almost fishooking his mouth when Hannibal got a little (very very little) carried away. The first noise from Hannibal was heard. He was… Will moaned at the very thought. He was making the most stoic man moan against the skin of his neck and use too much teeth. Lose himself, even if it was only enough to probably play it off as giving Will what he wanted. Will knew better. He could feel it every time another circle of his hips made both of them groan for more.  
  
Every.  
  
Single.  
  
Inch.  
  
of him was being penetrated, explored, scratched, groped, touched, sucked, fucked, tasted. He was being consumed. Slowly and gradually. Hannibal was savoring each bite, each experience of Will Graham.  
  
He started to feel like a piece of meat between Hannibal’s teeth. Like something only to be consumed and gorged on. The thought shouldn’t have made him press against Hannibal’s hips harder.  
  
The older man inhaled a sharp breath. Somewhere between bites and sucks to the curve of his ear there is a “Will…” whispered in that voice. The voice that sounds like he’s more than enjoying it, that he doesn’t want this to stop any time soon. It’s all Will can do to keep that request going, sucking harder on his fingers and finally fighting back with every moment their hips meet. Even the practiced and patient therapist is starting to lose his grip. Not physically. That only grows tighter and tighter as he fucks harder and faster. Will couldn’t make himself stop sucking those fingers if he wanted to. He really didn’t want to when Hannibal actually broke skin on his neck. Will was drunk. Drunk on consumption and lust and that handsome bastard who could turn him from normal to this. He bites back, but only when those firm hands let go of the bruises on his hip long enough to stroke his cock in absolutely perfect time. There are no stars to see for this. Only pitch black as his eyes tighten. His mind couldn’t even imagine stars and he was going to kick himself for thinking that.  
  
Will was so numb and hung over on lust he didn’t immediately notice Hannibal was almost losing control. Hard and fast and not nearly as paced or practiced as before. He was louder. So much louder… He was using Will’s body for solely his pleasure… After giving Will exactly the same thing. Somehow, feeling Hannibal fill him as he gasps and slows is better than feeling himself.  
  
They’re cleaned in exactly the same way they were made dirty: Hannibal did it all. The sheets were left messy until morning. Hannibal might have been obsessed about being clean, but asking a guest whose ass he had just destroyed would be rude. Will knew that. Will at least knew something.  
  
“Please come to bed.”  
  
It’s the first thing Will’s said since the main course. Hannibal turned around, mild but passive surprise painted on every corner of his face. But Will knows that look in his eyes. That satisfied look. It’s rare.  
  
“Happy to oblige.”  
  
They’ll tackle what this meant in tomorrow’s session.

**Author's Note:**

> my first bit of writing in a very long time. please let me know if you spot any errors. ♥


End file.
